


A Three-Way Mirror

by tinymacuser1998



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Love Triangle, Multi, Post Chaos Theory, a pre done fix it for the inevitable love triangle lol, i hate heteronormativity, post season 3 episode 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacuser1998/pseuds/tinymacuser1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So,” she says, looking forward and putting her own hands in her lap, sans the boys’, “since we’re here and I love you both, I want to admit that I cannot choose between you.”<br/>In which Leo, Will, and Jemma have some figuring out to do, Bobbi and Lance just want to steer them in the right direction, and Daisy is very concerned about Jemma's toenail polish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When will the government stop my sinful hand?

The only problem was that she was in love with both of them.

As Jemma lay in her bed on base, with her head hanging limp over the left side and a half-bottle moscato wine in her right hand, she relays this information out loud. Daisy, who has Jemma’s feet in her lap and a plastic cup filled with alcohol between her own feet respectively blows her bangs out of her face before commenting.

“That’s some tough shit. Spread your toes so I don’t smear this everywhere,”

Jemma sighs and sits up to take another drain from the bottle. Daisy makes a noise in protest and steadies Jemma’s feet as to not damage her work.

“Well, do you have any advice?” Jemma asks after her swig. She gets distracted by her already finished left foot, and wiggles her toes in Daisy’s lap so the gold sparkles hit the light. Daisy had gotten some of the pinkish base-color on her cuticles, but it would come off in the shower. Jemma isn’t really worried.

“It’s not like I’ve been in this situation before,” Daisy says, “so not really. And I think anyone who decides to get crunk off communion wine is far from saving via my advice, anyways. Hey, Simmons, you listening? Quit wiggling your feet or I’ll get nail polish all over my leg!”

Jemma looks back up to narrow her eyes at Daisy, and jabs at her with her unpainted big toe. Daisy lets out a mock shriek, and cowers away. This causes her to knock over the drink in her lap.

“Oh, shit!” Daisy says, grabbing quickly to right her cup before it spills off the towel. Half her leg is drenched in whiskey while the remnants and the nail polish bottle are placed on Jemma’s bedside table.

Jemma sits up when Daisy pushes places her feet off the side of the bed so no paint will get on Jemma’s comforter, and Daisy uses the towel previously under her legs to wipe the alcohol off herself.

“Should I get you more?” Jemma asks half-heartedly, not wanting to move but feeling guilty enough to offer.

Daisy waves her off.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. The whiskey wasn’t that good, anyways,” Daisy says, balling up the towel and throwing it into the hamper hanging on Jemma’s door. “Too bad Bobbi isn’t here. She’d make me a margarita. Guess I’ll have to deal with Phil’s.”

Jemma shakes her head, which shakes her body and causes the wine in her bottle to slosh around. “Nuh-uh. We agreed that there shall be no floaters on spa night.”

Daisy shrugs while picking up Jemma’s phone and punching in Phil’s extension, “Then he’ll have to get his toenails painted. And, I mean, I don’t think he’ll mind. When’s the last time he got a manicure, you think?”

Jemma throws her head back and giggles while imagining the Director in a nail salon.

* * *

She doesn’t want to go into the lab when she sees Fitz’s back turned to her through the glass door. Although, she also doesn’t want to not go in, because what if he’s seen her already and wants to confront her about avoiding him, afterwards? He’s focusing pretty intently on the computer monitors in front of him, though, so she doesn’t believe that he’s seen her, yet. But there’s still the possibility that he’s seen her in the reflection of the screens, or will soon.

Things have been awkward since they rescued Will from the Monolith. They had been awkward well before, but the situation had really come to a head when Will phased from the stone and stumbled straight into Jemma’s waiting arms, only pulling back once he locked eyes with Fitz.

Jesus, Jemma’s stomach was turning just thinking about it. Will had introduced himself to the entire team before Coulson shooed everyone off so he could “rest up”. Jemma realized that Will assumed he would be sleeping in her room with her only after she got out of the shower to see him staring at a pair of Fitz’s trousers in her top-most drawer on her dresser. After the initial shock of seeing someone in her room she didn’t expect to see, she had the wonderfully awkward job of explaining that she and Fitz were kind of dating now. Or, she would have, had Will now looked up and excused himself and left.

That’s why spa nights had been reinstated. It was a tradition that had been since before S.H.I.E.L.D. had a permanent base, when May was still terrifying, Daisy still went by Skye, and Coulson still believed that the best way for teammates to get to know each other was through forced (and somewhat sexist-based thinking) interaction. The boys had sport’s nights and the girls had spa night. The gender-influenced seclusion quickly went to the wayside, though, when Fitz, and later, Mack, started frequenting spa nights more often than not, and May yelled at Coulson for being barred from sport’s nights.

Eventually, sport’s night dissolved and spa night became the middle ground, where everyone who was available would bring booze and do face masks and paint each other’s nails and the like while getting smashed. It was, and still is, quite fun, though regular attendance has been diminishing due to everyone pairing off all of a sudden.

Fitz has not been attending as of late, for obvious reasons. Simmons has not been seeing him besides when there’s team meetings and when they bump into each other in the hallways or lab. Jemma doesn’t even want to think about how less-frequently she sees Will. Either way, she misses him. Not enough to risk confrontation, though.

She peeks around the corner to see Fitz tap-tap-tapping away at his keyboard and sighs, holding the tablet she has to her chest and turning on her heels to go back to her room and wait.

* * *

Will gets along with Mack, which she expected and is glad for. She sees them on the security monitors sometimes, playing basketball in the gym or eating in the mess.

Jemma sometimes sits in the lab with her chin in her hands, watching him for hours before getting any actual work done.

She hasn’t talked to him for approximately the same amount of time talked to Fitz, and the realization hits her so suddenly that she ends up crying for a good half hour before Lance stops by while looking for Bobbi. He gathers her up off the floor, walking her to her room and giving her a cuppa and an Advil before heading to her door.

“They’ll get this figured out, luv,” he says before turning out her light, “we blokes are morons, but we know when we’ve done wrong.”

No, she wants to say, it’s all my fault. I did this.

But, as he closes the door, her head is on the pillow and her eyes are heavy.

* * *

“You’re really going to do that for her?” Bobbi says in Lance’s ear while staring at the ceiling.

Lance pauses mid-thrust to lean up on his forearms and stare at her, “What?”

“You’re really going to do that,” she asks again, staring up at Lance while her hair flares around her head in a sweaty halo, “you’re going to do that for Simmons?”

Lance blinks at her a couple times, processing what she’s asking before it dawns on him.

“You really choose to bring things up at the most inopportune times, Bob,” he says, putting his head back into the crook of her neck before getting back to the situation at hand.

“I just think it’s really nice, is all,” Bobbi says in the small, airy voice that she only uses when they’re together like this.

“Yeah, well,” Lance says, feeling sweat form on his forehead again, “that’s me. A nice guy.”

* * *

It’s relatively simple to find Will. He just asks Mack and follows the yellow brick road, as it were, to the temporary living facilities where Inhumans are shacked once they’re discovered and taken to base. They made quick work of one to shack up Will, and Lance finds him there.

He knocks before entering, but hears the shower running, anyways. He decides to let himself in.

The room is the posh and clean stark-white of all the rooms on this floor, but Will’s looks much less sterile.

All of his clothes are packed away in the dresser, and one of the drawers is stuffed and won’t close all the way. The bed is unmade, and the light is dimmed to be less harsh than most of the other rooms Lance has seen in this facility.

Another thing he notices is that the display that generates photos of feel-good landscapes and the like is unplugged, and the only photograph in the room is the one he saw of Will and Jemma when they were in the Monolith. Lance picks it up to observe it before Will’s bathroom opens, and then slams it down back on top of his dresser. Will walks in from a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist and startles when he sees Lance.

Will looks to Lance, and then to the downturned photo on his dresser. Lance looks at Will, then the photo, then the towel on Will’s waist and to Will, again.

“Heyyy,” Lance says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“Hi...” Will says, looking at his dresser and then back to Lance.

Lance pulls his hand away, realizing it was still on the photo of Will and Simmons, clears his throat.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to get together with me and the boys for sport’s night!” Lance says, scratching the back of his head as Will just looks at him and drips.

“Um, sure,” Will says, “I thought that wasn’t a thing anymore, though. Mack said you quit doing it a while back.”

“Well, I thought I’d give it another go! Inviting the new recruit in, and all that!” Lance said cheerily, putting out a hand to slap Will’s shoulder before thinking better of it and pulling back to scratch his head.

“I’ll think about it, I guess,” Will says, looking past Lance to his dresser again.

“Alright. Tonight at nine in the den, if you’re interested!” Lance says, dashing for Will’s door and exiting.

He leans back on Will’s door and sighs. Well, that was one done. Two more to go.

* * *

Fitz was easier to convince, but more reluctant to go. When Lance walks into the lab, Fitz rolls his eyes, thinking Lance was around to waste time while being benched like before. Bobbi’s onto his scheme, though, and only looks down at her tablet and smiles when Lance walks in through the sliding glass door.

“Hello, nerds!” Lance says, leaning on a tray and subsequently flipping it. Fitz sighs audibly.

“He’s yours to deal with, y’know,” Fitz says to Bobbi, who nods while laughing.

“Unfortunately, you're right,” Bobbi replies, walking over to some interns to show them something on her tablet.

“What’ve you got?” Fitz asks, turning to face Lance and startling when he is closer than Fitz thought he would be. Lance reaches out and steadies him with his arm.

“Nothing, old buddy, old pal, except for an invitation!” Lance says, straightening Fitz’s collar before he’s batted away.

“An invitation?” Fitz repeats, “To what?”

“Drinks! Food! Whatever you want, pal!”

Lance slaps him on the back which sends Fitz forward on his stool, and Lance balances again.

“Jesus!” Fitz yells, “If I say yes, will you leave?”

Lance gins widely, “Yep!”

Then, he spins on his heel and walks away while Bobbi’s laughter rings after him.

* * *

“Honestly, Bobbi, whatever surprise you have for me is surely more than enough of an apology for missing the last three optional spa nights,” Jemma says, reaching forward and trying to steady herself while the blindfold impairs her vision.

Bobbi guides her with a hand to the mid-back. “Oh, I’m sure it is. Just wanted to make sure it stayed a surprise, Simmons.”

Jemma reaches out to try and touch the wall before Bobbi slaps her hand away and chides “no peeking”. Jemma can feel the change in temperature, though, and gets hints from the reverberation of her shoes against the concrete floor, which tells her they’re in the lower levels of the base and therefore the more recreation-oriented area.  

The nice clothes and makeup that Bobbi cased her in were hinting towards them going out, but they didn’t. Jemma is pretty sure this means that they and the girls are having some sort of dinner, though. That’s a nice thought, but Jemma doesn’t really feel like doing much more than eating ice cream in her room and sulking.

Bobbi takes her hand off Jemma’s back for a moment and she hears a door opening before the scent of something deliciously rich hits her nose.

“Oh!” Jemma says, inhaling deeply, “this smells wonderful, Bobbi! What’s the occasion?”

Bobbi’s hands rise to untie Jemma’s blindfold, and as it drops, so does Jemma’s stomach.

The first thing she sees in the source of the aroma, which is a chocolate cake on the dining hall’s bar counter. Then, she sees Will, sitting at the bar and clutching a drink and looking at her with wide eyes. Then, she sees Fitz, sitting alone at a table set for three with wine, salad, and a brisket dinner.

“It’s a reunion!” Bobbi says, nudging at Jemma’s shoulder. Jemma’s legs feel weak, and she stumbles back into her.

“W-Why did you do this?” Jemma asks.

Bobbi smiles brightly, gesturing to Lance who was mixing drinks (sloppily) at the bar. “His idea!”

Fitz’s eyes lock with her before he starts to stand, and Jemma spins back to look pleadingly at Bobbi.

“Please... I can’t do this...” she begged.

Bobbi’s smile didn’t dim. “Of course you can! It’s a meal to celebrate all the kids that made it out of the Monolith!”

She pushes Jemma towards the table and settles her into a chair. Fitz’s eyes lock with her’s, and he looks just as horrified as she feels. Bobbi grabs one of the cloth napkins off the table and places it on her lap, and it suddenly makes so much more sense as to why Bobbi’s wearing black slacks and a button down.

“Lance and I’ll be in the kitchen if it gets to be too much,” Bobbi whispers.

“It’s too much now!” Jemma half-whispers back, looking to Will just as Lance guides him to the table, as well.

“So!” Bobbi says, clapping her hands and looking over the three shocked participants, “call us if you need anything!”

Lance and her skitter away to the door to the kitchen behind the bar, and Will downs the remnants of the gin and tonic in his hand before Fitz shakily grabs for his chardonnay and drains that, too.

Jemma looks longingly to the kitchen, and thinks about how long the night is going to be.

* * *

Will, bless him, doesn’t try to do anything to diffuse the situation. He has no idea that Fitz and Jemma having been talking upon his return, so he acts as though he is just an awkward addition to their date night. About a minute after Lance and Bobbi leave and Jemma and Fitz sit in uncomfortable silence, he says “your friends are weird,” and digs into his salad.

He doesn’t eat with any finesse, and downs all his food quickly since even before he got out of the Monolith. He’s already on the brisket before Fitz decides to lay his napkin on his own lap and dig in.

Jemma starts to idly pick at her own salad after a while, looking to the kitchen door frequently. She starts to notice that Will is tense about thirty minutes in, and reaches out to put her hand on his shoulder.

The entire atmosphere is suddenly thick with tension. Will almost recoiles with how suddenly he pulls away from Jemma, and Fitz drops his fork onto his plate before flushing furiously and picking it up. Everything, for a minute, is completely still. Jemma has the overwhelming desire to cry again, but bites the tears back and pushes out her chair.

“This is idiotic,” Jemma says, balling up her napkin and throwing it onto the table. She starts to march towards the kitchen doorway to give Bobbi and Lance a piece of her mind.

“Jemma, wait,” Will says.

Jemma looks back to see Will standing and Fitz’s hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Jemma feels like she can hardly breathe with how intensely Fitz is looking at her. He’s scowling, for one, and looks like he’s about to scream at her besides. Jemma pauses again to hear what he has to stay.

“She’s right. This is idiotic,” he says, standing and facing Will, “it’s idiotic how long we’ve been avoiding each other. It’s idiotic how we had to be put in this situation to sort it out.”

He looks to Jemma, whose lip juts out and is trembling to its own accord, “I’m sorry, Simmons. I’m sorry I’ve been so furious and have been taking out on you.”

He turns back to Will, “And Will, I’m sorry I judged you before I got to know you. But I do think we should sort this out. All of us, but privately.”

Will nods once, and then looks to Jemma, “You think you’re up for it, kid?”

Jemma tucks her lip in firmly and nods once, walking forward shakingly and taking both Fitz and him into her arms so she could hug them both. Fitz puts his face into her shoulder and Will wraps one of his arms around her wait. When she pulls back and nods her head, her eyes are only slightly bleary. She takes their hands and leads them out the door and to the elevator.

* * *

They look kind of out of place in Jemma’s room, since they’ve both been there under different circumstances but for the same purpose, but Jemma’s too knackered to care. The first thing she does when they all get there is run to the bathroom and wipe the makeup off her face. She lets the tears that were in her eyes fall down her face because of how relieved she is, then pulls her hair back and scrubs at her hands until she feels that the grime of the day is gone. Then, she walks past both Will and Fitz, who’ve both found places to make themselves comfortable (Fitz on the foot of her bed and Will on the chair in the corner of her room), into her closet to get pajamas. She changes, and she doesn’t care that they’re watching, because they’ve both seen her naked before, and then she sits next to Fitz and gestures for Will to come over.

Jemma takes their hands as they sit besides her, and Will laces fingers with her while Fitz shyly pulls away. Jemma looks over at him lovingly, feeling tired, sad, enamored, and a whole other range of emotions she can’t put her finger on. Fitz looks at her lips and flushes in the way he does when he’s about to kiss her, but he doesn’t, and Jemma, though she knows it was futile to hope, feels disappointed.

“Look,” she says, turning to Will, “I love him.”

Will looks at her sadly, and then looks at Fitz who is shyly taking her hand on her other side.

“I know.”

She leans in and kisses his cheek, then turns to Fitz, who looks baffled. “And I love him, too.”

“Yes, I-I’m aware,” he says, falling over his own words, “look, Jemma, maybe this was a bad idea...”

“I don’t think so,” she says, squeezing his hand, “I haven’t lost my nerve. Have you?”

He locks his eyes with hers and then shakes his head firmly.

“So,” she says, looking forward and putting her own hands in her lap, sans the boys’, “since we’re here and I love you both, I want to admit that I cannot choose between you.”

Fitz makes a defeated noise, but Will takes her hand in his and squeezes it firmly, “So, what do you want us to do, Jemma?”

Jemma looks over at Will and shakes her head sadly, “I have no idea. Maybe I just shouldn’t be with either of you.”

Fitz makes a strangled noise and grabs her other hand. Jemma looks to him, and his face is flushed while he shakes his head desperately.

“No, Jemma, please. I can’t do this again...” He says, looking between Jemma and Will, “I think I have a solution, anyways.”

Fitz stands in front of them like he’s trying to make an appeal, which Jemma supposes he’s doing, anyways.

“This is... kind of a long shot, and neither of you have to agree right away, but I do ask that you consider it before shooting it down,” he starts. Will’s eyebrows knit together and Jemmacocks her head curiously, which he takes as a que to continue.

“I believe that Jemma doesn’t have to, um, really choose between either of us,” he says, starting to pace, “what if- and, I mean, please don’t punch me for suggesting it, what if she dates both of us separately?”

Jemma exhales, about to shoot down Fitz’s suggestion before it even has time to cement, but Will speaks first.

“I’m down. What about you. Jemma?”

Jemma’s eyes bug as she looks to Will, who just shrugs. Then, she looks to Fitz, who looks so proud that his idea was agreed upon by Will.

“I can’t ask that of you, really,” she says, unwinding her hand from Will’s.

Will shrugs, “It’s not really gonna bother me. I know you love him-”

“And I know you love him!” Fitz cuts in, “Sorry,”

“And I think making you choose in the first place was pretty dickish,” Will finishes, looking to Fitz and shrugging once.

Fitz nods back excitedly, and then takes a knee in front of Jemma, grabbing her hand.

“So, what do you think?”

Jemma’s speechless. She looks to Fitz and Will, feeling like either of them was going to pull the rug out from her any second.

“Wouldn’t you get jealous, though?” She asks quietly.

“It might be tough,” Will says, looking to her, “but I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Me, too,” Fitz says, squeezing her hand.

She feels overwhelmed and excited, but doesn’t let it show through into her features. She smiles and nods once, and Fitz almost jumps forwards to hug her. Will puts his hand on her back again.

“Thank you,” She whispers to Fitz and Will, “Of course, of course. Thank you so much.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally dingaling, you perverts.

The most startling part of it all is seeing Will and Fitz sitting together and talking with each other. Sometimes, it’s Fitz talking in his excited way and using his hands to describe what he’s trying to say, and other times, it’s Will sitting on Fitz’s stool, pointing at one thing or another on a screen and explaining something.

Jemma’s heart aches, and she loves them so, so much.

Fitz sometimes will rib Will, and he’ll ask to place bets on how long it’s going to take anyone to ask. Jemma will roll her eyes and tell them both to shut it, but frequently speculates, herself. It’s not like they’re keeping in a secret, she supposes.

She’s happy that they, at least to her knowledge, wait until the next spa night.

 

It starts when she sends Will out of her room on Friday, insisting he comes back with some more clothes and a toothbrush he could use if he ever wants to stay the night. She already has two of his shirts in her top dresser drawer, folded neatly besides Fitz’s, but she wants some more... just for it to seem realer to her, she supposes.

Anyways, after he steps out, she sees Daisy round the corner. She passes by him relatively normally, but then does a double take, and locks eyes with Jemma when it dawns on her, and her jaw drops. Jemma knows full-well that Daisy had seen Fitz doing the exact same walk of shame two nights before.

“Jemma, what?” She cries out, and Jemma shrugs her shoulders before closing the door behind her.

Daisy bangs on her door later at about nine that night, interrupting her and Fitz from watching Back to the Future 2 and snuggling under her blankets. Before Jemma gets a chance to get out of bed, Daisy slams her door open, absorbs what’s happening, and jabs her thumb behind her.

“Out,” She says.

“He was literally about to get hit by the car, Daisy,” Fitz whines from under the blankets.

“That’s pretty early on. You won’t miss much,” Daisy says, “Skedaddle.”  

Fitz grumbles, but pulls the covers off his legs and gives Jemma a kiss on the mouth before putting on his shoes and leaving.

Lance, Bobbi, and Daisy all pile into the room. Daisy has her arms crossed and makes herself comfortable on Jemma’s bed, and Bobbi walks into her bathroom to mix up face masks, she assumes. Lance starts setting up a blender and fixings on Jemma’s dresser to make margaritas.

“The next spa night is over a month away!” Jemma complains while Daisy stares her down.

“This is an emergency spa night,” Daisy deadpans.

“Yep, you got some ‘splaining to do!” Lance adds, putting a bag of ice in Jemma’s mini fridge.

Jemma crosses her arms but smiles bashfully, anyways. “I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”

Daisy sighs, and puts her hand on Jemma’s knee. “Simmons, I know you like both of them, but it isn’t fair to fool around with them both like this. They both love you very much, and they just started getting along-”

Jemma’s smile slipped off her face. “Oh, God, no! I’m not cheating on them, Daisy!”

Daisy cocked her head at Jemma until it dawned on her and her eyes widened. She could hear Bobbi laughing from the bathroom.

“You mean..?” Daisy starts.

“There it is!” Lance said,sitting in between them and putting an arm around both Jemma and Daisy’s shoulders.

“Did she figure it out?” Bobbi asks, walking in with a bowl of pale green slime in a bowl

The look on Daisy’s face said it all.

* * *

 

In reality, she hasn’t gone too far with either of them. They had both seen her fully naked more than one time, but the farthest she’s ever gone, she supposes, is oral sex.

She hadn’t gone all the way with Will on the Monolith because there was a risk of pregnancy and they had no form of birth control, and the on-again off-again thing she had with Fitz before they dated didn’t really leave much time intimacy.

None of that seems to matter anymore, at least for Jemma. Nothing seems to inhibit her anymore, be it the shame or confirmation of trust, nor any of the other things that came with being intimate with someone.

That wasn’t to say she dove right into it, but it was a near thing. She didn’t even think to examine this before she woke up one morning, and, upon hearing the shower running, didn’t think before stripping and walking into the bathroom to join who was inside.

When she pulls back the curtain and steps inside, Fitz makes a startled beeping noise. This doesn’t register with her until she’s fully under the spray of water and finally opens her eyes to see a startled Fitz clutching a loofa and pressing himself against the shower wall. Even then, it still takes Jemma a moment to figure out why he’s reacting like this.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry, Fitz!” she says, backing up to the other side of the shower, “I completely forgot, I mean... I didn’t mean to- I did this with Will before and I didn’t think to-”

“It’s fine! Really, it’s fine, Jemma,” Fitz says, unfurling himself from the corner and stepping back under the spray.

Jemma, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, covers her chest with her hands and looks up through her eyelashes at Fitz.

“No, really, I was just surprised, is all,” Fitz says, stepping forward and holding Jemma in his arms under the water.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma repeats, “I was just tired and forgot we hadn’t done this before.”

Fitz presses his lips to her forehead. “No, it’s nice, really.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

Jemma giggles before leaning up to kiss Fitz, and then, they’re too preoccupied to think about their mishap, anyways.

...

Later that week, she’s in Will’s room at two in the morning and he’s eating her out like it’s his job, or something.

Jemma’s sitting on his bed with a fist crammed into her mouth, completely naked, while Will’s down on her knees in front of her, only topless. There’s some sort of power imbalance that should be addressed, but Jemma doesn’t trust herself to take her hand away from her mouth.

Unfortunately, they’re both so preoccupied that they don’t hear anyone walking in until Jemma hears Fitz say “Oh!” in the doorway.

She inhales deeply before opening her eyes to see Fitz, staring wide-eyed and blushing, while holding the Cornetto trilogy in his hands.

“William!” She shrieks, pressing his head with her thigh. He takes this as a sign to go further, though, and does such, which causes Jemma to choke on a moan. She hears Fitz inhale sharply.

She pushes at Will’s arm, which eventually gets him to stop. He looks up at her dumbly before she points to Fitz, who’s still looking at Jemma.

“Oh, Jesus,” Will says, turning to look at Fitz. He grabs Jemma’s thigh to steady himself, and though it’s not appropriate to do at the time, Jemma feels her back arch.

“I’m sorry about this, man,” Will says nonchalantly, like he’s apologizing for forgetting milk on an errand run, “I’ll head up as soon as I’m done. Might have to be in your room this time, though.”

He squeezes Jemma’s thigh again as to provide evidence for what’s keeping him busy, and Jemma sucks in through her teeth. When her eyes open again, she sees Will looking up at her while Fitz just stares.

He looks to Will, nods once, and walks right back out the door.

“You watch movies?” Jemma panted out.

“Most weekends,” Will says into her thigh, “why, you jealous?”

“No!” she insisted. Will puts his head onto her stomach and blows a raspberry, which causes her to laugh. He gets up and lays down beside her.

“Are you jealous?” She asks, not really knowing why. Will kind of stiffens next to her, which she finds interesting.

“Of the guy who can make my girlfriend come by just walking into a room? Yeah, kind of,” Will jokes.

Jemma turns her head to narrow her eyes at him. “In your defence, you did all the heavy lifting.”

Will busts up at that, rolling onto his side and wrapping an arm around Jemma.

* * *

She replays that a lot in her mind, what happened the time Fitz walked in on her and Will. She thinks about it when she’s alone and wants to touch herself, which is less often now because she has two boyfriends, but it still happens.

She thinks about what sex is like with Will, all strong hands and hard kissing, while, with Fitz, it’s more sweet and deep. Each type has redeeming qualities. Sometimes, she thinks about what it would be like if Fitz walked in on her and Will again, or what Will would do if he walked in on her and Fitz. Sometimes. she imagines what it would be like with both of them at the same time, and only feels a little bit selfish after each time she does.

* * *

She never mixes up their names in bed, or thinks of the other while being intimate, so Jemma’s pretty sure her yearning to have sex with both of her boyfriends at the same time can be passed off as one of those deep-rooted, dark fantasies that every person has.

Like, how often does Fitz or Will imagine her with a pretty girl? Probably more often than they would like to admit, is for sure.

But then, Fitz will start sticking around when he intrudes on Jemma and Will’s date nights, or Will will snuggle into her left side when he finds Jemma and Fitz watching a movie on the bed, or Will and Fitz will be hanging out, and Jemma will arrive and whatever activity they’re doing is paused almost hurriedly. Jemma eventually wonders if they like each other, but is afraid of what they’ll think if she asks. It’s better to keep some dreams in your head, she supposes.

* * *

They’ve started playing a drinking game called “take a shot whenever Will yells at Matt Damon’s character in The Martian,” and Fitz and Jemma are thoroughly enthralled while Will is getting illegible. They’re all completely shit-faced, and Jemma tries to get up to refill her and Fitz’s shot glass when she falls over into Will’s chest. Fitz’s hand darts out to steady her, and ends up grabbing her boob.

They fall into hysterics and end up in a big, giggling pile of people. Jemma eventually drops her and Fitz’s empty glasses and Will places his on the table so it doesn’t spill. The laughter eventually subsides, and the credits roll, but they didn’t change positions, and Fitz hasn’t moved his hand.

Will’s hand moves to cup Jemma’s face, and he pulls her in for a deep kiss. Through the cloudiness of being drunk, Jemma can hear Fitz make a soft noise while he massages her boob in his hand.

That’s, well, completely delightful, if Jemma says so herself, and groans when Fitz starts kissing her neck and goes for the buttons in her shirt.

Jemma wants to see Fitz’s eyes, how they go black whenever he touches her like this. She wants to see Will’s hands dwarf her body parts. She breaks off her kiss with Will to relay this to them, but all she can manage is groans and tiny cries which resonate in a way she hasn’t heard before.

Fitz has her almost completely in his lap now, kissing her shoulders with his hand completely up her half-unbuttoned shirt, and Will is petting her through her jeans, kissing on her neck and leaving tiny welts she won’t be able to cover in the morning.

She won’t want to, though. God, she wants to remember this forever.

Eventually, she feels Fitz’s lips leave her shoulder and travel to her ear nipping slightly before whispering to her.

“You like this, don’t you? You’ve wanted us like this. For how long, Jemma? How long have you wanted us to get you thoroughly fucked?”

The air seems to rush out of Jemma when she comes, crying out so loudly that it would be comical if it wasn’t genuine. After she was done, they all stop what they are doing immediately and listen for anyone who might’ve heard. When the coast seemed clear, Jemma slides, with wobbly legs, off of her boys’ laps and buttons her shirts.

“Jesus Christ, Leo, where’d you pick that up?” Will asks in the deep, throaty voice that up until now was entirely reserved for Jemma.

Fitz shrugs like he was almost embarrassed and scratches the back of his head, “It just, y’know, seemed right. Did you like it, Jemma?”

Jemma nods and points over her shoulder. “Do you want to, um- want to. Just, bed?”

Fitz freezes, waiting for everyone else’s reaction before replying. Will rolls his eyes and grabs him by the wrist, yanking him up so they are both standing. He grabs Fitz’s shoulders and leans in slowly, so slowly, to give him a kiss.

Jemma’s heart, at first, melts. Fitz looks so surprised and happy, and pushed back to kiss Will. He grabs for Will’s head and deepens it, opening his mouth so they could French. Then, Jemma is so deeply aroused that she feels as though the air just got knocked out of her.

“Yes, I want to bed.” Fitz says decisively with Will’s face still in his hands. Will and Jemma both laugh.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me father for I have sinned


End file.
